


The Black Knight and the Girl

by TheDarkPorg



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And a passing appearance by the X-wing jock and the runaway stormtrooper, And some interruptions by Hux, F/M, Now also featuring a cameo by the Knights of Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkPorg/pseuds/TheDarkPorg
Summary: Rey wakes up, and finds she's not on Tatooine, and the war's not over. Instead, she's in a cell aboard the First Order command ship, with Kylo standing in the doorway, looking annoyingly amused. Reylo. Fluff. Action.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey
Comments: 38
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who's reading this - to BurntKloverfield, JaneDrewFinally and ReyloMe for their multiple replies to individual chapters, which are about the most gratifying kind of feedback a writer can get, also to MFA101 and welightitup for their nice individual comments, and for the kudos from filhadoboto, windwhisp, benevolentmonsters, NanaseLimon, zugzo, sedraxler, Theyna_Shipper, KaiteKat24, Leanna_Dax, Phoenixfire212, Kenshinsgirl84, RachaelEliza, TheDarkinMansfield22, ReyloForever, CalamityM, nityge, Fellfrosch, scrletvsn, lonufry, Spacekitten224, la_enchanter, tezsuckseggs, cheekylady, NyteFuri, gentlygolden, welightitup, MsVonB82, Alexespin, MFA101, Anna_Wing, BurntKloverfield, LoopDLulu, Silver_Tigress, TheMadTeaPatty and seventeen others who remain safely anonymous. A lot of you have also opened doors to fun reading material, either your own work or your recs, so thanks for that as well!!

She sits on the metal shelf which serves her new cell as both bench and bunk, looking at the bulky handcuffs looped around her wrists, feeling foolish. Is foolishness a path to the dark side, she wonders?

She suspects she would be feeling foolish even if _he_ wasn't standing beside the doorway, a stride and a half away, tall and strong in his long cloak and dark costume, but unmasked to show the scar she gave him. And he has two lightsabers now worn together on his belt - the bright hilt of his grandfather's weapon alongside the dark grip of his own one.

She has the sense that he's waiting for her to say something. Sighing, she looks down at the shackles. She could use the Force to remove them, she reminds herself. But that seems like the wrong step, creating an imbalance.

How did she get here? She was on Tatooine, with her new lightsaber. She remembers strange, half-formed imagery. Blown desert dust, reminding her of Jakku. Shadowy hands, gathering her, as if she was buried in the sands. Voices. And a presence, silhouetted against brightness.

The man who now stands with her once again. This is no vision, no dream, no hallucination.

But how?

She looks past her curled fists, down at the bright, scuffed metal floor, and thinks back, using her Force skills. They've never felt more rudimentary than this. They seem completely inadequate. But somehow, the answer is there, rising up from somewhere she wasn't even looking. "The quicksands. On Pasaana."

"A sarlacc pit," his voice confirms. "You were lucky that I found you."

That just makes her feel even more foolish, even more annoyed. She isn't sure what to do with the funny sense she should be thanking him.

She tries a small smile.

"My pleasure," he notes, ironically.

The smile flashes bigger before she can hide her reaction. Does his being there make this better?

"You know what a sarlacc does?" he asks, questioning. Strangely gentle. She likes that.

Rey nods. She's heard of the sarlacc on Tatooine. Stories about Boba Fett, as well as the ones about Han, Luke and Leia. And there were stories about a sarlacc on Jakku as well, not that anyone ever found one. "They live underground, in the desert. Big plants that eat people, like a cactus the size of a spaceship, with tentacles and teeth. And they can mess with people's minds. Cause hallucinations. While they're being... digested?"

"A sarlacc takes a thousand years to digest a human being," he says, with a flat tone that might just disguise amusement of some sort. Her eyes flash up at him, and his look back at her. "You were only in there for three days."

Three days? That should have been important.

"Some interesting hallucinations?" he asks

Rey looks down again. "You could say that." Pasaana was real, or the first part anyway. But the abandoned ship, the ice asteroid? Did she imagine them? She feels more certain about the rest - the ruined Death Star, her return to Ahch-To, the impossible X-wing, the duel, and Tatooine. All just images from a very strange dream.

She's a girl who thought she was a Jedi, who fell into a sarlacc pit, and was rescued, by the Supreme Leader of the First Order.

As identities go, that doesn't feel too bad.

She's all out of fight. Or maybe she just changed, in some way she doesn't fully understand yet. Maybe sarlacc hallucinations are like detox for a Jedi.

She looks at Ren again, and realises he's about to leave. Did he misinterpret her silence as refusal? At least he's not talking about the dark side any more.

"Ben?"

Her new companion pauses, and turns back. "Yes?"

"I'm not... I'm not Palpatine's granddaughter, am I?"

At that, he laughs. The look suits him. The smile that follows does as well. "No. No you're not."


	2. Chapter 2

The door opens. Ren turns, black cloak broad behind him, takes a stride up the steps that lead out of her cell. She's surprised when he half-turns back, and gestures, inviting her to follow - not to take his hand, simply to leave her prison.

"I thought you'd never ask."

She means the remark as flirtation, as much a defensive parry as agreement, and she's annoyed that he turns away without replying, but she hurries after him, like an animal chasing down a quarry - like something in one of those stupid fake races that Finn told her about, on Canto Bight. But this is no time to feel foolish. A part of her is afraid she'll miss an opportunity, fearful that he'll leave her there and shut the armoured door. A part of her hopes that if she follows him, he'll respond to the challenge of her remark.

Instead? A silence, footsteps, long strides. The passage leading out of the detention block is narrow. When they reach the lobby, she quirks out from behind, takes quicker steps to move up alongside him.

Ren smiles at her, and she flashes a grin back. The fact they did that in full view of the guards snapping at the security desk... well, what does that mean?

She's not sure what the glance he gives her means. She's not sure what the look she offers in reply means, either.

They're out of the cells now, away from the uniformed idiots snapping to attention to salute him. She's still wearing her stupid First Order stun-cuffs. She supposes she could take them off, if she wanted to. She's a Jedi, after all.

"Ren."

That stops him. She's never acknowledged that part of him. At least, not in a word. Not...

Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Kylo Ren... whatever, he turns and looks at her - surprised, amazed, impressed. And, with one of those mercurial shifts of poise, he looks like he's about to answer back, and take control of the discussion from her.

"Oh, kriff you," she says, and loops her arms around his neck, pushing him back against the wall before he can react. She's still in handcuffs, and a good eight inches shorter, but that doesn't matter.

She's got one leg raised, braced against the wall, like she's on a mounting step for some big riding animal.

She's got the Supreme Leader of the First Order backed against the wall - or at least the bulkhead, in a public corridor, on his Star Destroyer.

Making out.

She can feel his gloved hands supporting her, low in counterbalance to her raised arms, and the two lightsabers, angular on her right hip. She can feel his surprise, and his enthusiasm, and her own. She can distantly feel the surprise of soldiers walking past, a ripple of reaction, which she's pretty sure will be all around the ship before she's let him take a breath - but the thing that matters is the way her lips and his are holding wordless conversation.

The thing that matters is the kiss, bright like a star between them.


	3. Chapter 3

"There are... important things," he says, when she lets him speak.

There's a new edge to his expression, something tousled, liberated, fun.

She flashes a sharp grin back. She feels more confident. Did she just steal that from him? Doesn't matter.

"Like which cells you're keeping my friends in? Like Darth Sidious, and the Sith Fleet?"

"Yeah."

She laughs. "Add in the fact that Hux wants to overthrow you, and Pryde works for the bad guys?" Is this something she knows because she's a Jedi, or because she's been sarlacc-bait for the past three days - or just a statement of the obvious, that she's simply found the confidence to express?

"That too." A flicker of amusement.

She's got him pressed against the wall, handcuffs behind his collar, restraining him. "I like you here," she smirks.

"I like us here too," he parries. Hardly more than a face-saving gesture. "You could get too used to this."

She shrugs. "Might be fun to try."

"Rey."

The intensity of his look makes her falter. "Not fair."

Then he smiles, gloved fingers on her jawline. "Oh, I don't know."

She hadn't thought that his strength would be as vulnerable to her as that. Is that a problem?

"Are we supposed to be having a serious discussion about saving the Galaxy?"

The question hangs unanswered, but she likes the way his hands are cupping her chin now, and their smiles are _very_ close, so they decide to just kiss again, instead.


	4. Chapter 4

Eventually, a silence outside of themselves intrudes. They let the kiss reach a temporary conclusion and contemplate each other, still holding each other's gaze, sharing smiles, before, reluctantly, turning to look at the interruption.

Kylo Ren feels his gaze darken. The half-dozen figures who stand in front of them aspire to look mismatched, intimidating, unique - but they have no individual personality worth mentioning, all hiding behind the same unimaginative disguise of crude combat armour, rugged black costumes, and ugly, cumbersome weaponry.

"Snoke's failures."

"Friends of yours?" The girl's voice sounds amused. She flashes him a smile, eyes catching his, so he smiles back.

"Not by choice."

The Knights of Ren were not his idea, nor were they his creation, still less does he feel any loyalty or sympathy towards them. But he needed to accept Snoke's dubious gift, pretend to find them useful.

He doubts any of them were smart enough to realise what he thought of them. If they had been, they'd have been considerably brighter than his former master.

But not even they could miss the implications of what he's just shared with the girl.

As he unclips his lightsaber, he realises that he's feeling an eagerness that's become unfamiliar to him. He adjusts his grip on the weapon so he can hold the blade one-handed, and takes his grandfather's weapon in his left hand, a reverse grip, offering the hilt sideways and back to the girl.

The girl shakes her head, and dances forward to fight the nearest brute, grabbing his long-hafted weapon, spinning him upside-down, and slamming his helmet off the deck. She ignores the powered end of the weapon she's just stolen, and attacks the next thug in front of her with the length of the handgrip, blocking his own slash, twisting elegantly like a dancer on a bar, and kicking between his legs.

 _Street rat_ , he thinks, approving.

He's blocked the attack of the opponent in front of him, the most dangerous of the group, if that means anything - catching the aggressive slash of his vibroweapon on the blade of his own red sword, and stepping back and curving to the left so that his opponent's own downward weight against his one-handed grip pulls him off-balance as he twists the crimson blade, and spinning the blue-bladed lightsaber in his left hand to disarm him.

The masked bully responds with a shriek that hardly fits his image, and crumples, clutching his maimed weapon against himself, his pride and self-image broken in an instant.

 _Messy_ , Kylo Ren thinks.

Two more opponents follow - he knows where the strong points of their armour are, the places he can slash his blade into them without doing too much damage, power-fighting them off their feet in a rhythmic pattern of lightsaber work that even he would concede shows how much better he is than them.

For a moment, he's not sure how to avoid making a mess of them, as well. But the blunt end of a lightsaber is an effective tool for knocking idiots unconscious.

 _And people say these things have no stun setting_ , he reflects, giving his grandfather's weapon a little toss and spin before catching the hilt again in his hand.

The girl has finished off the other half of the brute squad. As the first of them crumpled round the foot she inserted in his crotch, she used the way he caved and the pivot where their weapons locked together to smash the blunt end of her weapon off his mask.

Then she hauled him up again and used his armoured body to block the shots from the sniper at the back - charging forward, converting him into a battering ram. The sniper lifted off his feet in the collision, pitching onto the floor, and skidding down the hallway, with an absurd flail that suggests he's completely beaten.

The girl dances over her fallen opponents, smashing the blunt end of her new weapon down in a rapid, jazzy pattern, destroying one holdout weapon after another.

The sniper tries to rise. Ren gives him a long look, warning him that the girl is a _much_ more dangerous opponent than he is, and the coward agrees to give up the fight.

The girl turns, exhilarated by her success. There's a danger there, something beyond his ability to control. "That was fun."

"We make a good team," he agrees, deactivating the two lightsabers. "You want one?"

"I'm good." She hefts the quarterstaff, evidently pleased with a weapon that's more familiar to her, more suited to her fighting style.

"Good." So he nods, and turns, and leads her towards the hangar bays. This is his command ship, after all - though he suspects that if she was left to figure things out on her own, she'd find her way just as fast without him.

Ren smiles, and looks at her. She's looking back.

"Thinking?" she asks. Another grin.

"I like you," he shrugs. "Come on."


	5. Chapter 5

They hurry down the corridor, skidding round a corner, and almost blunder into a party of prisoners being moved under guard - an unshaven scoundrel dressed like a treasure-hunter from a holomovie, being marched by an officer with her blaster pistol pressed aggressively up against his shirt. Behind them, a determined-looking, muscular young man in a dark top and a set of binders, surrounded by the white-polished stormtroopers of the escorting squad, as if he needs all eight of them to keep him in line.

 _Commander Dameron and the traitor FN-2187_ , Ren thinks. He doesn't know what else to call them.

The female officer salutes. "Sir, my orders were to escort these prisoners to Bay 97."

Ren nods. He gave those orders. "Continue in your duty, Captain. You'll find forward transport waiting on the deck when you arrive. You have my personal authorisation to depart immediately with these two rebels under escort. You have been briefed on your destination?"

The officer's nod is a very different thing from Ren's own gesture. "Sir." She looks a little relieved, though. Perhaps she's just grateful to have clarity and purpose provided by the Supreme Leader, confirmation of the orders she's been given. But perhaps she's also recognised what her orders imply, and she feels unexpectedly glad to be offered the opportunity to make a difference.

Poe Dameron tugs his binders, and glares at Ren. The deserter, FN-2187, is also wrestling with the urge to interrupt, though he's silenced by a sharp look from the girl, thrust diagonally through the centre of the stand-off.

 _She's better at this than Phasma_ , he reflects. He wonders if she's that good with all the Stormtroopers.

Poe Dameron isn't so smart. "I don't know what you think you're doing..."

"Shut up, you overgrown cadet," he says, using a jab of one black-gloved hand to silence the X-wing ace. "The _Falcon_ is waiting in Bay 94, with Chewie, Threepio, and that ridiculous astromech of yours on board. Everything you need to fight the Sith Fleet - navigation, technical readouts, intelligence reports - is uploaded to your droid. These stormtroopers are for your own protection, and to establish a liaison between our forces."

The girl looks at him in disbelief, her reaction far less subtle than the twitches and tensions with which the female officer signals her uncertainty. Somehow, neither of them seems any more or less communicative than the other.

For a moment, Ren imagines the girl exchanging her white Jedi jumpsuit and tabard for the same sharp black uniform worn by the female officer guarding her two friends. He's always liked the Stormtrooper officers' outfit best of all the First Order's designs.

He shakes off the idea. She wouldn't suit the discipline. She's perfect as she is.

"Is this some kind of crazy trick...?!" Evidently, Poe Dameron can't quite understand what's happening.

The female officer silences the loudmouth rebel with a sharp jab of her gun up underneath his pectoral. "Don't shout at the Supreme Leader, space trash."

Ren smiles at that. So does the girl.

"You are my personal envoy on this mission, Captain," he says, handing the officer a passcode disc. "Accept no interruptions, no countermand. Not even from General Pryde. Not even General Hux." _Especially not Hux_. "They are traitors in the service of the Sith. Is that clear?"

"Sir," she nods. "Now move, you rebel scum. We have a Galaxy to save."

The female officer hurries down the corridor at a strutting march, still enjoying her opportunity to push around the great Poe Dameron. The stormtroopers follow in formation.

The traitor looks around, trying to work out what's going on between the girl and him. Kylo smiles at him, and turns away.

"Was _she_ a friend of yours?" the girl inquires, hurrying alongside him as he sets off. The way they move, his strides and her fast breaks, seems like perfect counterpoint. But her expression demands his answer.

"You know she's not," he says, shaking his head. Is she really that suspicious? Does she think he just casually picks up junior officers? Does she worry who his past girlfriends are?

Or is she just teasing?

 _Probably just teasing_ , he thinks, with another smile for her.

She flashes a grin in response, appearing satisfied, and they walk on in silence for a while. She's eager, bouncing sideways to keep pace.

"That bit about Hux being a traitor?"

"Not a lie. I _am_ the Supreme Leader of the Galaxy, remember?"


	6. Chapter 6

"So, what does that make me?" the girl asks, glancing at him as they hurry down the corridor.

"You're you," he says with a smile. "You're who you want to be." Does she really not understand that yet?

But her instincts are strong - there's a perfection to the natural ease of her actions, and to the way she weighted her response like a weapon.

And then they turn together, a sharp left through the entrance of his private hangar - and she stops in her tracks, blinking at the half-dozen personal spaceships parked in front of them. She glances from one to another, eyes dancing, and grins.

Then she remembers to look at _him_ , and grins some more.

"We have some of the same hobbies," he shrugs.

She laughs, but she's looking from him to the ships and back again. The command shuttle, spire-like at the rear of the formation with the wings folded up. The _Grimtaash_ , unloved in the back corner, but he can tell her eyes are intrigued by the puzzle of the little transport's design and history. A brand-new Tri-Wing sports fighter, elegant and beautiful - wide canopy over the cockpit seats, fastback fuselage, raked wings, hull plating of bare alloy polished to a silver sheen. And a trio of TIE Fighters - the nearest of the three is a big heavy-fighter prototype, bulked by massive engines, crouched on the deck, with the maintenance panels off the engine housing, and the tools strewn on a dirty old groundcloth underneath.

"Are we taking the Silencer?"

"The Silencer is a maintenance nightmare," he answers, leading past the heavy fighter to where a pair of smaller Interceptors are parked beneath a boarding gantry, sitting ready with their wings pointed at the stars. She looks quickly at the TIE Baron on the left, seeing the sleek elegance of an ace's ship, but she looks longer at the TIE Whisper, recognizing something more about that one. She must have seen reconnaissance reports about his new ride. "Besides. The new one on the right has two seats."

She glances at him, her expression bright again. "Is that the real reason you changed fighters? Ben?"

"Mostly," he concedes. She grins at that.

There's a scuffle in the wide doorway. Stormtroopers, jogging down the corridor, blasters at the ready, then stopping and turning to take up firing positions in the entrance. And a striding presence behind them, impatient and offended. _Hux_.

"Traitor!" shouts the traitor.

Ren shakes his head, amused - then reaches back, and uses the Force to slam the lock-plate for the blast-doors, sending a wall of armour plate speeding across the entrance. The girl has done something similar to the troopers themselves, sweeping them off their feet like shiny white skittles.

"That won't hold them for long."

"I know."

They clamber up the boarding ladder, his cloak flapping at his boot-heels, the girl following him with quick, four-limbed movements. As they walk along the gantry, he folds the cape, then grins as she reaches past him, and uses the Force to open the TIE's top hatch.

Ren goes first, taking the controls, punching the pre-flight sequence. One thing he likes is that the TIE is always _quick_.

But today, he has more important distractions than his ride.

The girl is with him.

She drops into the rear-facing gunner's seat behind him - and he hears her kick the controls into action, followed by the vibrant whir of the weapons turret rotating beneath the cockpit, and the rhythmic sound of blaster fire.

They always did fight well, back-to-back.

"What's the plan?" she yells.

"Trust me?!"

He presses down on the accelerators, and the TIE Interceptor streaks out into open space.


	7. Chapter 7

As the two-seater TIE Interceptor streaks out from the Star Destroyer's hangar, she realises that she's grinning.

The wide viewport in the gunner's position offers a panoramic view of armoured hull geometry, studded with viewports and sensor equipment, rapidly receding and somehow simultaneously getting bigger - there's a glimpse of night in one angle, she sees the _Falcon_ looping round and racing off for freedom, and the armoured abstraction is transformed into the dramatic dagger of the entire First Order warship, blazoned on a starry black, and circled with the gem-like constellation of other TIE fighters.

For a moment, she feels kinship with those fighters, but then she sees the way the circling pattern's changing, as the TIEs - or several of them, anyway - loop round in pursuit, and the others reposition to maintain the patrol screen.

She glances at the displays and control panels which frame her window, recognising the sensor scope, the selector for the guns - she switches to long-range fire, and sends more shots against their pursuit.

"Try the mag-pulse."

She wonders what advantage that will give them, until she realises that Ren just doesn't want to kill the chasing pilots.

"You don't need to do this just to impress me," she counters. But she's selected the mag-pulse, and the missiles loop out, each one pursuing a separate evasive spiral towards the TIEs chasing them. The TIEs split apart, corkscrewing into impressive evasive patterns, trying to escape the missiles' range envelope - they don't know that the weapons streaking towards them aren't proton torpedoes, they don't want to risk being the fighter who the missiles try to lock onto at close range.

That's given them the distance they needed, she realised. Perhaps Ren knew. Or perhaps the whole thing just worked out perfectly. Is that the Force?

A flicker of light and movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention, and she glances around Ren's shoulder into the front curve of the cockpit, seeing the quarter-sized hologram of General Hux, perched absurdly on a display at one side of the forward viewport. The flicker of the First Order warlord's eyes is obvious even behind the flicker of the static on the image, and she knows she's in the image being sent back from the Interceptor too.

"Lord Ren." Hux is sounding smug, confident, somehow freed from the self-evident weakness that's made him the butt of so much parody. "You appear to have picked up a... stowaway."

"Girlfriend," she grins back. "I'm Rey."

Hux looks a lot more like his cliché after that.

"Don't get too used to thinking you're in charge," Ren reminds him, with a smile. "I'm coming back to deal with you when I've fixed a few more pressing problems."

The expression on Hux's face twists into shock and outrage. Ren pushes forward a lever - _jump lever_ , Rey thinks - and the stars outside the viewport suddenly spin and lengthen into starlines, as they launch into the lightning-storm of hyperspace. Hux's hologram, caught in the moment of opening his mouth to shout, is wiped by horizontal static lines, and winks off.

And she's alone in a very small cockpit with Kylo Ren. Which is... exactly where she wants to be, right now.

"Boring conversation, anyway," he smiles, leaning round in his pilot's chair to look at her.

She smiles back, as they realise they can kiss like this. So they lean a little closer, their lips meet, and they do.


End file.
